


Showering Dixon

by LazyBaker



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3466760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyBaker/pseuds/LazyBaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl stinks and Rick wants to help. It's the start of something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Showering Dixon

Daryl Dixon stinks. 

"Come on." Rick says. Keeps his voice low despite having the whole house to themselves. Carl is showing Judith off to the old couple down the street. They’re nice people. They wouldn't have made it long if it hadn't been for the steel walls.

The situation is unnerving and the fact that Rick is in a house with a bathroom and plumbing that functions is enough for him to wonder if he died and if this is some kind of after life. Maybe it's a version of heaven, a place where his family is safe and he doesn’t have to worry anymore, where he can maybe sleep a full night like he used to without waking up with his heart hammering, and where against all odds and every awful thing that’s happened, he can take a shower. 

A _shower_. Hot water and soap. He could cry it's too wonderful. He never thought he'd get a chance like this again, not since the CDC. Not since the prison. And even then the water had been sparse and cold. Not welcoming like it is here.

He grabs Daryl, slow but certain, his grip firm on Daryl's shoulder. Now that he's clean, scrubbed free of grime and blood and with clothes that have been genuinely washed, he can experience just what smell they'd all been carrying for the past year. 

It's not a good scent. It's on par with the walkers. But he doesn't wince when he stands near Daryl, doesn't really mind the stink all too much but he knows Daryl is unsure. And if Daryl needs a push, then Rick is willing to give him one. 

"I already took one." Daryl is gruff, but follows. His footsteps are slow and Rick changes his pace to match. 

Rick shakes his head. He’s not going to let Daryl get away with it. He smiles despite himself. "You really don't like the house, do you?"

It's big, huge compared to what they've seen. Hell, even before all the shit that’s happened, Rick has never been in a house like this. He drove by communities lined with little estates, a pipe dream to save up enough money and someday buy one. Live out their lives together in a nice quiet neighborhood. Lori had loved the porches.

Rick swallows. 

"Not like that." Daryl says and Rick can hear his lips shut and zip themselves up. He shifts their positions, has Daryl go up the stairs first, keeps his hand on his back. Daryl sighs and Rick bites back a laugh. He doesn't know what they'll do when they finally get to the shower but so far it's going well and Rick is finding that his instinct is right when it comes to Daryl. 

"It'll be good for Carl. Judith. Someplace safe to sleep. Maybe even make friends." Carl had been somewhat popular. He can only hope Judith will have people to be friends with when she gets a little older.

Rick had had a few people he called friends before all this. Not many, but a couple good ones. He doesn't think Daryl had many before. But he does now and that's what matters. 

They're on the stairs and there's only a few more steps before the bathroom. It probably won't ever stop being exciting for Rick to have a functioning bathroom to use. 

 _A fucking bathroom_. 

He can still feel the warm water on his back.

"These people could be good people. We can try and trust them." Rick opens the door, looks inside with his eyes wide and his grin stretching his face in a way he isn't quite used to anymore. He looks at Daryl, who's staring at him like he's got something on his face. 

"What?"

"I don't get why you're so damn happy right now." Daryl looks at his shoes. Bites at his nails. It's an endearing sight. 

"Just you wait." Rick says, excited to show Daryl this. It's a luxury now and he wants Daryl to experience it too. "You're gonna love it."

Daryl nods. Rick shuts the door behind them, turns the faucet on to ‘hot’. Tests the water with the tip of his fingers, an old habit he thought would be gone but here it is. Ingrained as if he's been showering every day for the past year. 

It's cold still. He turns to Daryl and nods at him. 

"Ain't the point of a door privacy?" Daryl is staring hard at the tiled wall, away from Rick. He's blushing, but under the dirt it's always difficult to tell. 

He'll be a genuine red once he's clean. Scrubbed raw and open. It's a sight Rick is anxious to see and he wants to be the first to see Daryl like that. It's a selfish little thing, but Rick wants this more than he wants a roof over his head. 

"You don't need to hide from me, Daryl." He moves closer. Doesn't touch him, but stands close enough to feel the heat of him. "Unless you want me to go? I will if you do."

Daryl is quiet and scratches at his arm. He is resolute in looking anywhere that isn't Rick or Rick adjacent. But it’s difficult when there's hardly a foot separating them. Rick admires his tenacity. Dislikes it too. 

"Nah." Daryl looks up at Rick, quick. Rick almost doesn't catch it. "I want you here."

"Good." Rick nods. The air leaves him and he can feel his own face heating up. It could be the steam though. "I want to be here too."

Rick touches his arm. Firm and hot and sweaty and covered in a layer of grit and so very much Daryl. 

"There's shampoo that smells like vanilla." Rick unbuttons Daryl's shirt. Worn and thin. "A big bar of soap that'll scrub your skin off too."

"Great."

Rick laughs. 

"It'll make you smell like a daisy." Rick finishes unbuttoning him. He touches Daryl's chest, feels his heart beat. It's fast. "It's just me, Daryl."

Daryl mutters something too quiet for Rick to catch, he can guess it's some curse by the way his mouth curls. "That's the problem."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Christ no." Daryl says. Rick pushes his shirt off. His vest goes with him. He's thin, ribs sticking out too much, but his muscles are lean and strong and tenacious in their unwillingness to leave Daryl vulnerable and Rick falls into him, wrapping himself around Daryl. 

Daryl holds him, tentative at first. Barely touching Rick before his hands become firm and hard and he's holding Rick just as hard and desperate as Rick is to him. 

"It's surreal." Rick says, lips smoothing over the nape of Daryl's neck. Taking a deep breath to remember the smell of Daryl's sweat and the scent of months together, fighting for every minuscule scrap they could hold onto. 

"Yeah." Daryl sniffs the top of his head. "Do you think it'll last?" 

Rick shrugs and holds on tighter until he knows he's going to bruise. "I don't know." It's hard to admit that. "I hope it does though."

It's quiet and Rick listens to the shower. Running water. Hot running water that fogs up the mirror and makes the room fill with so much steam he can hardly see the walls anymore. The room disappears and there's only Daryl in his arms and Rick in Daryl's.

He wants to be safe. He wants Daryl to be safe. 

"Come on." Rick pulls away. He reaches for Daryl's zipper, but his hand is pushed. 

"I got this." Daryl backs away, but not far enough for Rick to feel slighted or that he overstepped. "You still got your own pants to deal with." 

"Right." He’s quick to strip. The aches of his body have already started to feel more tolerable. Maybe this place is magic, a little haven in a world gone to shit. His joints creak as he bends to untie his shoes. He kicks them off to the side with his socks. He pulls off his shirt and pants without much thought, the steam feeling nice on his body. 

Daryl is in the shower, his body a blur in the glass. Rick stands outside of it, touches the door, the image of Daryl only inches from him. 

It really is surreal. 

"Either get in or get the hell out, but quit staring, you creep." Daryl keeps his back to him and Rick smiles. He gets in, swiftly shuts the shower door behind him. 

There's not much space for the two of them, but Rick doesn't mind and surprisingly Daryl doesn't seem to either. It’s cramped and he can hardly move his arm without touching Daryl. His hair is flat under the spray water. His lashes sticking to his cheeks. _Pretty_ , Rick thinks. 

He pours some of the shampoo in his hands, rubs it until it starts to make little bubbles. Daryl bows his head, the only invitation Rick is likely to get. Greasy and full of old dirt and blood from weeks of only having the occasional bit of water that wasn't used for drinking to wash up. It all falls and washes away, circling around the drain. 

Daryl hums, Rick's fingers working out every little bit of grime. 

"It's nice." Daryl says, mumbling full of sleep and perpetual wariness. " _You're_ nice."

Rick braces his hands on both sides of Daryl's face, tips his head back into the spray and rinses the shampoo out. He tilts him back, a little droplet clings to the tip of Daryl’s nose. He kisses it and then kisses him. Slow and sweet, nothing like Rick had imagined it being. 

Daryl’s beard scratched against Rick’s clean shaven face. It makes his toes curl.

Daryl moans and Rick moans back at him. His lips are chapped and rough. Perfect. Rick pulls back. "You're nice too."

"You dork." 

"Now that ain't very nice."

"Shut up and get the soap." 

"Yes sir." Rick picks up the yellow bar, sniffs it. He won't ever get tired of smelling soap. 

Daryl is watching him, his eyes are tired but he's alert. Rick wants to kiss him again so he does. Quick and he's smiling and he feels Daryl smile a little against him. 

"I like you." Rick says. He lathers the soap between his hands and scrubs at Daryl's chest and down his arms. He cleans each finger, his palms, and wrists. Works his way back up. Feels his pulse beating hard and reassuring beneath his hands. 

He doesn't expect an answer, had said it because he felt like he should tell Daryl something. He likes Daryl and loves Daryl and needs Daryl and wants Daryl and is terrified to imagine being without Daryl. 

It’s odd and Rick lets it bubble inside him. Feels it down to his finger tips to his toes and passed the tiles and the wooden floors and the cement foundation the house is built on. He lets it swirl and embed itself inside.

He pauses and brings Daryl's right hand to his lips. His nails are still in need of cleaning but his hand is pink and hot. 

"Like you too." Daryl says, his hair hanging in front of his eyes, clinging to his scalp and cheeks. Rick kisses the corner of his mouth. 

He works his way down, methodical. He pushes at Daryl to turn him around and is met with only some resistance but Daryl huffs and he turns. Rick quickly scrubs down his shoulders and back. The scars are old and ugly, but Rick keeps his mouth shut. Daryl doesn't talk about them and Rick doesn't ask. Daryl will bring it up someday, if he wants to. 

For now, it doesn't matter.

Rick reaches down, tries to keep his touch as brisk as he can but he can't help but squeeze Daryl's ass a few times, let his fingers wander inside and glance a touch or two. Daryl jumps but he doesn't move away. Rick is breathing hard and he should move his hand but he just rubs more. 

Daryl leans his head against the tile. Looks over his shoulder, wet and flushed. "Perv."

Rick snorts and moves his hand away. "I'm the one doing all the work."

"So you get to feel me up?"

"I think it's a reasonable trade."

This time Daryl snorts, his head shaking like he can't believe Rick. "You really are Officer Friendly, ain't you?" 

"The friendliest."

Daryl turns around, Rick's hand catches his hip, sharp under his thumb. He kisses Daryl hard, sucks on his tongue and nips at his lip. He tastes like toothpaste.

Daryl is hard and Rick is too. The shower is small and the steam is making his head foggy. Rick looks down at them, itching to do something. 

"Can I?" Daryl bites at his lip and he's looking down like Rick, seeing them excited and aching. His hips want to grind and the water may be hot but his blood is pumping something much more molten through his veins. 

"I haven't--" Daryl starts, stops himself. He breathes deep, his nostrils flaring. The water makes his skin pink but his blush turns his cheeks red. "Not with--not with no one like this.“

"That's all right."  Rick says. Keeps his hands to Daryl's hips, thumbs rubbing tiny circles. Keeps his eyes above the waist now. _Rushing_ , that's what they're doing. He takes a deep breath of his own, keep the fire to himself.  "We don't have to. We can wait."

"I like you, Rick."

Rick nods, his lips finding Daryl's skin without him knowing, he kisses the side of his jaw and then his ear. His hips stay rooted away from Daryl's. He wants to rut and fuck. He wants Daryl to want that too. 

"And I wanna kiss you." Daryl is quiet and his voice is a drawl that rolls off the tiles and into Rick's ears. Rick kisses him. 

"I don't like this place." Daryl says. Rick nods. Kisses him again.

He pulls him in. He smells like vanilla and a man who's alive and scared and uncertain. He's never had a home, Rick had pieced it together a long time ago. 

"I'll be here." Rick tries, hugs him tight and finds Daryl soft against him.  _Instinct_ , Rick thinks. He just hopes he's right.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://granpappy-winchester.tumblr.com/)


End file.
